


Extra Credit

by GoldenSnowflake



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Age Difference, Attraction, Classmate of Summer's Cliche, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Morty is a Sweetie, Oops, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Rick smells good, Shower Sex, don't read these they're practically spoilers, foxy grandpa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenSnowflake/pseuds/GoldenSnowflake
Summary: As the clanking of plates and silverware gathering food filled the air, a tall, slim figure swept into the room and took the chair opposite of mine. He stared and I blinked at him, my fork in my mouth. "Who's this?""We're partners for a project," Summer muttered as if he should've known better, despite the fact it didn't seem like she warned anybody that I was coming over at all.





	

“Hey.”

Startled, I looked up to see Summer Smith standing beside me. I gathered my books and straightened up to meet her gaze as she stuffed her phone in her pocket. “Hi,” I uttered dumbly.

“So, do you wanna do the thing together?”

I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“The class … project … thingy.” She was beginning to look irritated. “In life skills?”

“Oh…” Realization was dawning as I hugged my books tighter to my chest, protecting myself from the redhead’s bored, critical look. “The extra credit project, you mean?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s an easy A. I figured you could come over to my place some weekend since you already know where it is.” She smiled a little; something pretty and vague. “You came to one of my parties last semester, right?”

 _Oh_. It fizzled into being like a dream: her bright, spacious house; the nauseating smell of grape punch mixed with vodka. A bunch of kids who had no interest in acknowledging my existence (though, to be fair, I felt the same way toward many of them.) A girl I had been friends with for years was going and had pressed me until I grudgingly agreed to tag along.

When a sort of dull panic began to rise in my stomach at the thought of enduring an entire day of her polite boredom, I swallowed it down and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay. How about this Friday? I’ll probably get a ride home from James, so you can just come home with me then.”

I envisioned explaining to my mom why I wouldn’t be home on Friday night; her face lighting up at the idea of me willingly interacting with another human being my age. Sweat began to prickle on the back of my neck. “Okay. That works.”

“Great.” She smiled again, this time fleeting but seemingly more sincere. She was pulling her phone back out. “Thanks.”

I watched her leave, fiercely ignoring the dread blossoming in my chest when I realized that it was Thursday already.

 

* * *

 

Packing clothing and makeup removing wipes into my backpack felt like choreographing my own funeral.

I double- and triple-checked that I had everything I needed while force feeding myself a breakfast milkshake and cringing my way through a bout of stress farts. It occurred to me as I frowned into the bathroom mirror a final time before sprinting out the door that this was the most miserable I’d _ever_ been on the cusp of a weekend.

Summer was standing in a circle of people when I found her at the end of the school day. I hovered nearby for a good five minutes, my stomach lurching every time I thought there was an opportunity to cut in and say hi. The handsome guy standing across from her started staring openly at me after I opened and shut my mouth a third time. “Hey, who…”

The entire group was gawking at me by the time Summer realized that I was there. “Oh! There you are. Hey.”

Waving, I forced as natural a smile as I could manage. The girl with the pixie cut next to her snickered openly at me.

“We’re doing the stupid extra credit thing for Mrs. Raibitz’s class,” she explained airily. I smiled again and shrugged, falling into step with her as she headed toward the door. _Fuck. Well, it can’t get much more uncomfortable than school already is._ I squeezed my textbooks to my chest, grateful that I’d at least had the forethought to keep them out as a shield against any embarrassment. Summer glanced at me before pushing the door open and trotting into the parking lot. “So, how’s it going?”

“Okay.” The sky was overcast, reflecting the sunlight and turning the trees and flowers neon. I squinted as I hurried to keep up with her long strides. “How are you?”

“Just kind of whatever, y’know?” Her red hair glowed like fire in the afternoon light. “Anyway, sorry you have to deal with my weird-ass family for a night.”

“No, it’s totally fine,” I replied, and I meant it. “Everybody’s family is weird. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but like, my family is _really_ weird.” Before I could come up with anything else to say, we had reached James’s sleek black car. Summer leaned down to cross her arms on the open passenger side window, offering the brunette a small smile. “Hey. I hope it’s still okay if I bring a plus-one.”

“That’s cool,” he responded, offering me a crooked grin. There wasn’t much else to do besides smile back as sincerely as possible. Summer got in the back seat and scooted over to make room for me. I shuffled my bookbag off of my shoulders and set it in my lap at first, but after about three seconds of mortifying eye contact with James in the rearview mirror as I peered over the top of it, it seemed like a better idea to put it on the floor. Summer looked outside with a sigh as a herd of freshmen jogged past the car.

The urge to say something rose in my gut, but I had no idea what either were into and no idea what was happening with any of their mutual friends. Silence stretched on into a heavy, distinct awkwardness. _This time tomorrow you’ll be home,_ I reminded myself. _It’s only a day._

Finally the chiming laugh of a girl I’d seen James with before drew close. “Yeah,” she was saying in response to the girl getting into the car next to us, “Like that’ll ever happen.” She plopped down in the passenger seat, heaved an enormous sigh, and started telling James about her upcoming vacation with her older brother.

The three fell into an easy conversation as James pulled out of the parking lot, giving me the chance to fade into the background. I watched the houses pass as we went further into the far side of town, zoning out and tracing the shapes of elegant old fencing and a yard of just-planted birch trees. Summer’s phone chimed and I listened to the impossibly fast clicks of her typing a response.

If I could keep the seeds of anxiety and embarrassment in the pit of my stomach from blossoming into full-on panic, I could do this.

James slowed down at a pretty, medium-sized house that looked vaguely familiar. Summer had her things gathered before it had even registered that it, indeed, was the place I'd been at before for a horrendous party. "Later, you guys," she said airily as she got out.

"Later, Summer," said the girl in the front seat. "Later..."

I slammed the door before she could trail off completely, not wanting to draw out the uncomfortable moment of realization that she wasn't sure who I was. The car peeled off, deafening in the muted hum of suburban noise, and when I turned around, Summer was already halfway up the sidewalk to her house and I was left hurrying after her yet again.

“You coming?” Summer gave a small smile when I nodded. “Well, then, welcome to my house.”

The smell of the place was the first thing that hit me: warm, pleasant, with the odd undertone of cheap plastic. “You can throw your stuff in my room if you want,” she murmured as I closed the door behind me. “We’ve got sleeping bags, so you can sleep in my room. Or on the couch, I guess. It’s super comfy as long as Dad’s cell phone isn’t stuck in the cushions somewhere.”

“Okay.” I snorted in amusement at the roll of Summer’s eyes upon mentioning her father. She led me up the steps and into a room with rich peach-colored walls. I grimaced in utter horror at the completely sincere collection of boy-band and celebrity posters tacked up all over, barely managing to wipe my face into a blank before Summer turned back to me. She flopped onto her mattress and her gaze drifted to the ceiling.

“Make yourself at home. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

“Okay,” I uttered again. A prickle of unease crept up my spine at the realization that she really wasn’t going to make any further effort to show me around. I propped my backpack against the wall by the door, fished out my phone, and headed out into the hallway. The glimpse of sink fixtures and a toilet seat through one of the cracked doors sent a flood of relief through my veins.

I closed the door behind me, collapsing onto the toilet and letting out a painful knot of stress that had been building in my chest with my breath. The house creaked below and my heart thudded in the quiet, surprising me at how anxious I really was. My face burned at the thought of Summer listening in disgust to the deafening flush as I stalled by washing my hands a good three times. The thrum of my pulse was finally quieting. The reflection gazing at me looked far more composed than I felt. I allowed myself a long while to hold cold water to my face, my thoughts narrowing to follow the trickles that wound around my wrists and chilled my neck. _You can do this. It's only twenty-four hours_.

Leaning against the counter, I clicked through my text messages, willing something of interest to appear and checking again when my phone didn't buzz to life. A stray voice in my head wondered if Summer knew that I didn't have a smart phone and if she'd be disgusted when she noticed. "Probably will," I croaked out, blinking at my reflection. "Oh well."

Before my nervousness could freeze my joints and trap me behind the closed door, I squeezed my eyes shut, shoved my phone in my back pocket, and forced myself to step back out into the hall.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I jumped when a smaller figure came into view. My jaw dropped. “ _Morty?_ ”

“H-hey! What are you doing here?”

It wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years that Morty and Summer might be related. They looked so little like each other, Summer with her sharp nose and fiery orange hair, Morty with his shorter face and curlier brown hair. Now that I knew better, there was a ghost of similarity between their features, but one I never would’ve seen otherwise.

“I’m here with Summer,” I blurted out stupidly. “Uh, it’s for – it’s an extra credit thing. It’s for life skills. We have to hang out with someone we don’t normally see for an entire day to improve our etiquette around people we haven’t known since we were little, I guess. We have to write a paper too.”

“Well, that’s pretty cool.” He rubbed his arm and glanced away, seemingly self-conscious. I felt my smile grow, eased by the presence of someone nice who also wasn’t part of the elite. “So you’ll be here over night? -I mean-”

“Yeah, I’ll probably just sleep on the couch downstairs.” I shrugged again and glanced at Summer’s room, wondering if she was eavesdropping. “I hope I’m not in the way or anything.”

“Oh, no! No, are you kidding? Of course not!” He frowned a little, making me worry for a fraction of a second that he was going to think Summer was being rude and confront her about it. “Hey, uh, you wanna see my room?”

“Sure!” At this point, I wanted to tackle him and hug him until he suffocated. The dead silence from Summer’s room made me even more suspicious that she was listening and irritated. _Well, fuck that_.

Morty pushed his door open, spinning to face me and throwing his arms out. “Here it is, haha.”

Action figures and custom-built robots decorated his shelves and nightstand and a handful of posters were tacked crookedly up on the walls. A circular rug with our solar system on it sat in the center of the carpeting. The urge to sprawl out on it was so strong it was almost worrisome. “It’s awesome,” I evaluated honestly.

“You really think so? Geez. Th-thanks.” He scooted onto his bed, his legs dangling over the side. I sat down on the edge of the solar system rug and crossed my legs, leaning back against his mattress. “A bunch of these little robots were built by my grandpa.”

“Really?” He grabbed a tiny machine off of his nightstand, handing it to me. It had four sleek, silvery legs and a compact body covered in panels and microscopic screws. I turned it delicately over in my hands, finding no copywrite information or serial numbers. It looked like it had been built from scratch. “That one has a laser that draws lines to divide stuff. Like, your-side-of-the-room, my-side-of-the-room stuff, or this is your half of the cake, this is my half. It’s programmed to recognize Rick and make his side bigger.”

“Rick is your grandpa?”

Morty nodded. “He gave it to me because he says it’s just easier to yell at us when we’re in his space or eatin’ his food or what have you.”

A chuckle escaped me. “It’s amazing.”

We talked for a long while – about teachers, classes, and a few weird things that had happened locally in the news. I told him about a few electives that were interesting or easy that he should consider taking. He explained to me that they got a bunch of TV channels from all over the place and how different and bizarre some of them were.

An hour or two might’ve passed before the sounds of someone coming home caught my attention. Footsteps sounded on the stairs as I handed the line-drawing robot back to Morty.

"Knock-knock! Morty, I - oh! Hello ... who's this?"

Before Morty could begin a rambling explanation, I got to my feet and introduced myself, extending a hand to the man in jeans and a green dress-shirt. Seeing a parent made the connection between them make more sense – there was a lot of Summer in his face and yet the man looked exactly how I guessed Morty would when he got older. "I'm Jerry Smith," he explained as he shook my hand, looking surprised. "Summer and Morty's father."

"Yup." Morty shuffled awkwardly in place, having hopped off the bed. "That's my dad."

There was a moment of silence during which Jerry looked between Morty and I. For a split second I thought that he might not be happy that I was in his son’s room, but it was surprise written on his face. He looked almost _impressed_.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he finally uttered, earning a strained “ _Dad_ ” from Morty at the implications in his tone. “Your mother should be home shortly.” Jerry’s gaze returned to me. “You don’t mind having breakfast for dinner, do you?”

“Not at _all_.” I barely managed to keep my excitement from reaching hysterical levels. _See?_ part of me chided, _when you push yourself outside your comfort zone, good things happen._

Pleased, Jerry closed the door behind him. Morty huffed with annoyance and re-opened the door to where it had been earlier before plopping back down on his bed.

“Sorry about that- about him. He’s, he can be really embarrassing, y’know?”

“Don’t apologize!” I sat down next to him, sandwiching my hands between my knees. “You guys don’t have to be so embarrassed about your parents.”

Frowning at where his legs dangled over the side of the bed, Morty sighed. “Yeah, I know. I just kinda wish they weren’t so weird sometimes.”

The planets and stars on the rug drew my attention again, its color speckling the dreary plane of the floor with a few small bits of childlike wonder. I shrugged for the millionth time. “Weird is good sometimes.”

The chime of Summer’s phone receiving a text message echoed through the hallway. I sighed.

“I should probably get back to Summer. We _are_ supposed to be together.”

“Yeah, okay.” I stood again on the edge of the rug, patting my back pocket to make sure my phone hadn’t left me. Morty offered me a genuine smile before I returned with creeping dread to Summer’s room.

As soon as I stood awkwardly again in her doorway, Summer sprung to her feet and locked her phone with a click. “Wanna go watch some TV?”

 

* * *

 

Even though it was some awful reality show, having the buffer of makeup-slathered supermodels throwing things at each other was a huge relief. Summer sprawled out in the worn-out chair by the dining room archway and I shoved myself into the far corner of the couch, pretending to be in the midst of something exceedingly interesting on my phone while her parents thumped back and forth in the kitchen. I almost got up to ask them if they needed a hand and to introduce myself to her mom, but something in Summer’s disinterested expression discouraged me.

“Summer, go get your grandpa.” Jerry poked his head into the living room, ignoring her disgusted scoff in response. “Morty! Dinner’s ready!”

As soon as she left the room, I cautiously headed toward the kitchen. The thought of having yet another generation to contend with made my stomach churn. Jerry was taking an enormous stack of pancakes into the dining room when the stunning blonde at the fridge saw me.

“There you are! I wondered where Summer was hiding you.”

“Hi!” I smiled politely, shocked. This woman couldn’t have been past her thirties and was far fairer-skinned than either of her kids. She introduced herself as Beth, screamed up at Morty to come downstairs to eat, and told me to sit at the table wherever I wanted.

Jerry had been at the end of the table just long enough for me to start feeling like I should come up with a conversation topic when Morty trailed in, smiling again when we made eye contact and sitting diagonally from me. Beth set several cartons of juice on the table and Summer fell into the seat beside mine just in time for her mother to fix her with a look. “Is your grandpa coming?”

“ _Yes_ , Grandpa Rick’s coming,” Summer groaned. Turning to me, her glare softened. “Make sure to get some of the bacon before Morty takes all of it.”

“Oh my God, Summer.” Morty glared at her and withdrew from where he was reaching for the plate of it. She looked at him smugly as Beth deposited a final plate of food on the table and sat down.

As the clanking of plates and silverware gathering food filled the air, a tall, slim figure swept into the room and took the chair opposite of mine. He stared and I blinked at him, my fork in my mouth. "Who's this?"

"We're partners for a project," Summer muttered as if he should've known better, despite the fact it didn't seem like she warned anybody that I was coming over at all. Beth introduced me properly as I chewed my bite of egg.

"-and this is my dad, Rick." She blinked hopefully at her father and he nodded once in acknowledgement. I smiled at him briefly before fixing my eyes on my plate in front of me, and was horrified to feel heat rush to my face. I prayed that the prickle of warmth in my cheeks was my own blood and not the feeling of his eyes still on me.

 _Damn it_.

It wasn't so much the abruptness of his entrance that threw me off as how different he was from what I’d expected. The man was tall and slim with a wild mop of spiky, disheveled hair, his shoulders back and his posture perfect. He looked younger than a grandpa should, though Beth probably being in her thirties should’ve hinted to me that her parents were likely younger than normal too. My heart sped up in my chest and I pulled in a deep breath, commanding my body to stop overreacting.

The worst part was his _eyes_.

Jerry was talking about job searching or something as I reached for another piece of bacon as an excuse to sneak a glance toward Rick. He was looking at me. Our eyes met and I glanced away far too quickly. _Oh God._

His eyes were _striking_.

Dark, sharp and intelligent, like he could read your thoughts before you even had time to think them. And yet his gaze was hooded and he seemed to have a perpetual scowl on his face, as if all the information he could absorb at any given time was nowhere near enough to be stimulating. I could feel how incomprehensibly brilliant he was from across the table. My pulse was getting quicker instead of slowing, and I swore internally at how stupid and useless and counterintuitive my body was being.

_This is not a Thing._

_You’re freaking yourself out and that’s making it a Thing, but it isn’t._

He wasn’t attractive; he just surprised me and now my God damn stupid piece-of-shit heart was trying to break my ribs from behind. Morty said something to his dad about a place downtown that was hiring and Summer added something else.

As inconspicuously as possible, I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and let it out. This was going to be Fine and I was going to be Normal.

“Oh yeah.” Beth’s voice snapped me out of my silent turmoil. “I’ve been meaning to ask you guys – did something happen to the football players at your school? There was a blurb in the paper about some kind of investigation by the police.”

“Yeah.” Morty rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of toast. “The cops came in yesterday during lunch and were lookin’ for something.”

From beside me, Summer hid her phone under the tablecloth and turned to look at her brother. “How would you know any of that? It’s not like the football team talks to you.”

“It’s not like they talk to you either, Summer,” he retorted with a frown. “Some of us are cool enough to have invisible inner-ear communicators that pick up police communication channels.”

“Not – that anybody here would _invent_ something like that, that would be such a potential distraction during class,” Rick rasped, taking a huge swig of orange juice. My eyes slid to Jerry, who was glaring pointedly at his father-in-law. After a moment, he seemingly decided not to waste his time being angry, recomposing his expression. My silence thus far must have occurred to him, because Mr. Smith put down his fork and cleaned his throat, looking in my direction. "Sooo. You two are in the same class. And you get extra credit for either hosting a guest or being a guest for twenty-four hours."

I nodded and smiled brightly. "Indeed." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rick quirk an eyebrow upward. I grabbed another bite of sausage, pretending not to notice.

"It's to give us practice interacting in uncomfortable situations, because apparently we don't do that enough as high schoolers already," Summer uttered under her breath.

"It's nice to have the opportunity for an easy A, though." I kept my voice light, hoping to maintain the semi-pleasant tone of the conversation.

"I'll say," Beth agreed. "Morty, you should look into taking that class next semester. It would be a good boost to your GPA."

"Uh, yeah," Morty blinked up at his mother. "Okay."

"Not that it's likely he'll be home for twenty-four hours straight." As soon as he spoke, Jerry shot another irritated look at their grandpa. Rick slouched against the back of his chair, bored. "Who's got time for friends when the entire galaxy depends on you, huh, Morty?" Morty’s responding smile was the biggest I'd ever seen on him. The camaraderie between him and his grandpa caused a grin to spread across my face before I knew it was happening.

“You _know_ Morty’s grades are going to determine a huge portion of his adult life, don’t you?” I looked at Rick as Jerry’s strained voice interrupted whatever pleasantness had settled. Instead of acknowledging his son-in-law, he was watching me. A slow smirk spread across his face as he held my stare, his gaze piercing like he could read my thoughts. Jerry went on, his voice rising in volume the more he spoke. Summer began texting beside me and Morty sank down in his chair with a quiet groan. I tore my eyes away from their grandfather’s and reached for my drink of lemonade to hide my heated face. My heart slammed against the bottom of my windpipe so hard I could barely swallow.

“ _Jerry?_ ”

Mr. Smith finally stopped, looking at his wife. Beth’s voice was icy.

“That’s _enough_.”

There was a moment of quiet, the only sounds those of forks and knives and the refrigerator kicking on in the other room. Beth cleared her throat. I glanced at her to find her resting her elbows on the table, clasping her hands, and looking in my direction.

“So, what do _you_ do outside of school? Do you have any idea what kind of work you’d like to do later on?”

“Well, I babysit for a few families in my neighborhood,” I heard myself answering, scooting a few crumbs of scrambled egg around my dish, “Other than that, I just read a lot. I really don’t know what I want to do as a career later.”

“She’s _really_ smart,” Summer interjected beside me. I blinked at her, flattered, flustered, and a little annoyed that her tone was one of bragging when she had only acknowledged my existence a handful of times before this week. “She could be a journalist or a professor or something.”

“Just don’t do something that requires a lot of interaction with other people,” Rick muttered, earning a disgruntled look from Summer. “Any job where the opinions and interests of others define your livelihood is guaranteed to get you screwed.”

“Mmm … not necessarily,” I replied, cocking my head to the side in an attempt to look casually thoughtful, “People are always going to affect your job. Even if you’re a researcher of some sort, if people don’t care about the discoveries you’re making, you might not get funding. I mean, even if you run a boiler, you need to be able to interact with your boss and be a decent representative for your company.” Beth nodded at me, looking impressed. “You have to know how people are going to act. Maybe it’s just being able to keep from irritating people one-on-one, or knowing how people act based on economic stuff or political stuff on a larger scale.”

“That’s a good outlook,” Jerry assessed, pointing his knife at me. I shrugged, embarrassed.

“Knowing how to use people to your benefit to get what you want? Yeah … that’s a skill that never goes out of style.”

Rick’s detached look gave no indication whether he was being sarcastic or not. I nodded. “Exactly. It sounds awful, but yes.” One arm thrown over the back of his chair, he drummed his long fingers on the table and raised an eyebrow at me. Heat exploded in my stomach instantaneously. I dug my fingers into my leg and turned my glass with my other hand to distract myself. _This is bad._

“Well, it’s good to have a realistic outlook on things,” Beth agreed from her end of the table. “Just be careful not to become too jaded.”

“I’ll try,” I uttered dryly, leaning back in my chair and glancing at Morty. I smiled when our eyes met and he grinned in response.

“Speaking of having no faith in humanity, isn’t Extreme Kickboxing Bachelorettes on tonight?”

Summer’s eyes widened at her father’s question. “Ohmigod, I forgot it was back on! You watch it, right?”

“Yeah,” I heard myself lie, overwhelmed by her excitement. She was dragging me back into the TV room before I could protest, barely giving me enough time to thank Beth for dinner before Summer was flipping through the channels and babbling about the finale of the previous season.

I ended up balling myself up at the opposite end of the couch, my knees hugged to my chest and my hands clasped on my feet. I was hugely relieved when Morty sat beside me, leaving Beth to sit at the opposite end.

"This show is okay," Morty murmured beside me, giving a small shrug. "I guess having inter-dimensional cable kinda ruined normal TV for me."

"I can imagine," I laughed. A pang of anxiety went through me as I wondered if Rick was coming to watch it too. Considering how cynical and brilliant he was, it wasn't likely that he would enjoy sitting through something so vapid and contrived. Morty blinked at me, eyebrows furrowing like he was worried, and I caught myself and quickly composed my face to hide how flustered I was. Sighing loudly, I relaxed back against the cushions and let my knees sag away from my chest. My pulse drumming incessantly made it impossible to tell whether it was convincing or not.

The previews began, the cameramen zooming in exaggeratedly on a handful of gorgeous, offended-looking women. One of them heaved a punching bag at another girl and her angry wail when she hit the ground under its weight was almost drowned out by obscenely melodramatic music.

I barely caught myself when I almost jumped at their grandpa striding into the room. There were chairs at either end of the couch, and I reminded myself in a deliberate, condescending inner voice that he probably wouldn't even watch the stupid thing with the rest of his family.

My body overheated so much when he groaned and collapsed into the chair beside me that it almost felt like chills.

No matter how firmly I commanded myself to be calm, my senses were hyper-attuned to everything about him - his lean, slim frame, the angles of his long limbs draped over the fabric of the chair with total disregard, the ease and boredom emanating from him at all times. I watched his chest rise and fall out of the edge of my vision, and when he grunted far louder than necessary and sagged back against his seat, I breathed in and could _smell_ him. Just a glimpse of alcohol, cologne, and the cottony scent of his clothes.

It was enough to make my heartbeat pound between my legs.

God, his pale fingers were long and graceful and gorgeous. I felt sick as I traced the edges of his wide, short nails with my eyes and wondered if his hands were warm or cold. He let out a belch as Summer dropped the remote on the side table and walked past him, and she jumped, startled. She tried to act like nothing had happened as she plopped down in the other chair and began jabbing furiously at her phone.

"Dad." Beth leaned forward to see past Morty and I, frowning. "Don't be gross and scare Summer's friend, please."

"Yeah, wh- _euuugh_ -whatever." He fixed his gaze on the television and draped his hands off the end of either armrest.

It took superhuman amounts of strength not to snicker at the utter disregard for common courtesy. Summer muttered "Oh my _God_ , Grandpa Rick" and the struggle multiplied a thousand-fold.

Jerry finally shuffled in, took one look at Summer, and pointed at the carpet.

"Dad. Are you kidding me?"

Putting his hands on his hips, he retorted, "I bought that chair with my _own_ money."

"Yeah, because providing for your family out of the goodness of your own heart means _nothing_ to you." Mr. Smith glared at Summer and Summer glared at Mr. Smith and she gave an enormous groan before moving to sit cross-legged on the rug.

I glanced at Rick to see an utterly disgusted expression on his face. I smiled wryly and returned my attention to the TV. Whether or not the heat I felt was his eyes on me I wasn't sure.

_Nineteen hours to go._

The agonizingly dumb reality show quickly became more than I could tolerate, the scripted fights and decadent setting patronizingly fake. I hummed or mumbled my agreement at several of the comments Summer made before my eyes began glazing over and my thoughts turned inward. My stare drifted to the floor and I realized with a start that Rick was absolutely watching me.

The room full of people was already warmer than I was comfortable with - somehow I always managed to forget that a lot of people kept their thermostats above 70° until I was stuck at their houses wearing jeans and without a tie to put my hair up with. I didn't think her house had been this hot during the awful party, but then again, there was a distinct flash of memory of someone farting so badly they had to open all the windows...

Convinced that paranoia was making me perceive something that wasn't happening, I commanded myself one more time to relax and be calm before stretching the leg out that was closer to him, pointing my toes and straightening my ankle subtly before letting it dangle off of the couch and brush the floor.

Rick's fingers tightened on the armrests of his chair.

 _You're imagining things_ , I told myself as my heart rate began to quicken again. _You're absolutely just imagining things, you idiot_.

As naturally and as absentmindedly as I could manage, I scooted up against the back of the couch and rested my hands in my lap, smoothing my fingers down the insides of my thighs and back up again.

He sucked in a choked breath beside me and shifted in his seat, tugging at the fabric of his shirt like it had somehow gotten too tight.

_Holy_

_shit._

A blush flooded my cheeks and crawled down my neck, turning my skin to pins and needles. Jerry made some observation about the similarities between two of the contestants and Summer agreed with him. Rick breathed beside me and it felt like my body had never been so attuned to a movement in my life.

"I hope this movie is half as good as the trailer," Morty said when the commercials finally came on, and I nodded, croaking out a "yeah". There were two ads back-to-back for the season of the show we were already watching which actually made Summer and her parents' discussion _more_ enthusiastic. The second half of the episode continued, impossibly more contrived and obnoxious than the first, and the impossibility tall, slender man beside me was silent.

All of their conversation ceased as the kickboxing bachelorettes were shuttled into a limo and delivered to a spa where two of the girls wanted their nails done with the same bottle of polish _completely by coincidence_. That bottle was also revealed to be _the last one of its particular shade ever to be manufactured_ , also completely by coincidence. Sponges, nail files and hair curlers flew as the staff of middle-aged Chinese women ducked into the bathroom to avoid potential injuries. Their panic was so believable that I got the distinct impression that the producers had neglected to warn them beforehand.

Swallowing thickly, I ran a hand over the back of my neck, feeling the feverish rhythm of my heartbeat. Not tearing my eyes away from the television, I trailed my fingers down to the collar of my shirt and ran my fingertip under the length of it, pulling it minutely away from my chest.

Rick snarled out a curse and leaned to put a hand over his face.

Freezing, still tugging the collar of my shirt away from my cleavage, I let out a shaky breath. He hissed in sharply between his teeth.

_I’m not imagining this._

The fire spreading from between my legs was almost sweltering. I shifted carefully away from Morty and prayed that he couldn’t feel it coming off of me. My eyes slid to Summer to find her texting furiously with someone using almost exclusively emojis. One of the kickboxers insulted another girl’s glutes and Beth and Jerry gasped simultaneously.

Struggling not to start shaking, I glanced in their grandpa’s direction.

He was looking at me.

Eyes lidded, mouth curled in the subtlest hint of contempt. His nails dug into the fabric of the chair hard enough that frayed threads were hanging out from underneath his graceful fingers.

Blood roaring in my ears, I slowly licked my lips and returned my gaze to the TV.

Rick shoved himself out of his chair, stalking out of the room.

Morty sat up beside me, his eyes wide. “Rick, wh-where - where ya goin’?”

“It’s – the show’s not, not holding my interest,” Rick grated, voice fading as he disappeared through the kitchen. “I’ll be in the garage.”

The thundering echo of my heart drowned out the TV as I slowly pulled my knees up under my chin.

Summer leaned forward and pressed her hands into the rug when the screen went black and the credits began rolling. “Oh. My. God.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be the best season yet,” Beth exclaimed with a little shake of her fists. “ _Wow_.”

Jerry got up from his recliner and pressed his thumbs along his spine, stretching his shoulders back. “Well, after all that excitement, I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Morty frowned. “Excitement? All – all you did was sit there and watch TV for an hour.”

Having rested a hand on Beth’s shoulder and giving her a smile, Mr. Smith turned his attention to his son. “ _Goodnight_ , Morty.” He waved to me politely before shuffling upstairs.

“Actually, I’m gonna head upstairs and do some homework.”

Summer blinked up at Morty as he scooted to the edge of the couch. “You’re not gonna go hang out with Grandpa Rick?”

“Nah. I better get it done while I’m thinkin’ about it. Night,” he added toward me. I mirrored his grin and looked after him as he, too thumped up the wooden steps.

“I hope you’ll be able to sleep tonight,” Mrs. Smith murmured. “It’s always weird being in a strange house.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you for being so welcoming.” Beth smiled at me for a long moment as if she was completely enamored with me.

“Oh yeah. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows and stuff,” said Summer, standing up and stretching with a grunt. “Wanna sleep down here on the couch?”

Rubbing my arm, self-conscious from the attention, I nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Summer.”

“No problem. Feel free to use the bathroom upstairs for whatever. You can use any of the shampoos. Dad’s has that awful dandruffy-smell, though.”

Snorting with amusement, I nodded again. “Okay. I’ll avoid that.” Beth said goodnight as well and disappeared upstairs, although I guessed that she was going to read or watch more television and just didn’t want to be in my way. Summer sat a huge pile of folded sheets, quilts, and fuzzy middle-school craft-project blankets on the carpet, catching the pillow that tried to tumble off the top of the stack.

“Are you good to go?” She rubbed the back of her neck, looking at the blanket tower between us a little awkwardly. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, no, this is more than enough. I brought pajamas and a toothbrush and all that stuff, so I’m totally fine. Seriously, thank you.”

“Okay.” The crease in her forehead faded and she met my eyes, looking less worried. “I’m just gonna hang out in the other room for a while. Yell if you need anything.”

“I will.” My shoulders sagged with relief, a tired, honest smile coming to my face. “Thanks.”

Already pulling her phone back out of her pocket, Summer returned the gesture and left.

As soon as the room was empty it seemed to cool down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the tension easing where it had gathered in my shoulder blades and the small of my back. I covered the couch with two sheets, fluffed the musty-smelling pillow Summer had brought, then arranged the final sheet on top with the least-fancy blanket I could locate. I found the light switch and turned the overhead light off. The absence of the oppressive buzz made my skull feel ten pounds lighter.

In the softer light of only the lamp in the corner, I put the rest of the blankets on Jerry’s recliner.

_Oh._

Turning around, my eyes fell on the chair Summer’s grandpa had been sitting in.

Swallowing thickly, I glanced toward the doorway Summer had disappeared through.

The fabric was rough and woven into tight patterns, more for show than for comfort. I ran my hands up the arms of it like I’d somehow find the lingering warmth of his body there. The heady smell of his clothes and his skin was gone.

 _Eighteen hours_.

Stepping back and looking around the room, I collected my thoughts and climbed the stairs to get my belongings out of Summer’s room. Light spilled out from under Morty’s door and from the master bedroom’s as well. Sure enough, the soft rumble of a TV leaked through Beth and Jerry’s doorway. The toilet was making sounds like it was still filling up from someone having just used it, and I dumped my supplies out on the counter and turned the fan on to keep anybody from absentmindedly walking in on me. I found a fairly clean-looking bottle of toothpaste in the top drawer (as well as another strange little robot) and wandered around the room as I brushed my teeth, looking at the painting they’d hung up and the vase of fake flowers. I found clean towels on my first try and thanked God that I wouldn’t be forced to go nosily through all of their cupboards and cabinets to find them.

Undressing, I looked at my pile of dirty clothes and decided to fold them up. Something about just kicking them off felt horribly impolite. I stuffed the bundle into my backpack, took a final look at my tired, stress-riddled face in the mirror, and climbed in the shower.

Running my fingers under the spigot until the water was warm enough, I huddled up out of the way of the showerhead’s stream and pulled the stopper. A spray of chilly water rained down my back but grew hot and inviting almost instantly. I moved to face away from it and looked at the dozen bottles scattered across the small shelves, reading the names and scents of conditioners, scrubs, and acne washes. I squeezed a small palmful of relatively safe-looking body wash into my hand and let my eyes drift shut.

The tiredness made my imagination awaken and drift, creating the perceptions of me the Smith family might have gotten as I lathered up my arms, wandering to my home and my bed as I scrubbed my neck and my shoulders. I scratched my nails down my stomach as my thoughts centered on Rick.

 _God_.

His sharp, brilliant eyes. The intensity of his anger rippling just below his skin. His slim frame and his long, graceful limbs. His slender fingers. My shoulder knocked into the shower wall with a muted thump as I rubbed body wash up my neck with one hand and slid the other lower, humming low in my throat as I trailed a fingertip between my legs. There was another thump, a softer one.

I froze.

My eyes opened just in time to see a tall, shadowed figure through the grayish haze of the shower curtain before Rick tore it open, tossing his shirt toward the pile of clothing strewn across the room. I slumped against the wall and my heart dropped through the floor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and dove.

A squeak of shock escaped me as he bent to press his nose to the crook of my neck, icy hands wrapping around my back and pulling me against him.

My knees gave out and I slumped against him. His shoulder blades strained beneath my fingers and he growled as I clutched his skull. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed again.

Rick’s palms ran up my spine, around my waist, and down to squeeze my ass as he let out a guttural groan. My hips jolted against his body and warmth flooded between my legs at the feeling of his erection bumping hard against my stomach. I ran my hands through his hair, fingertips grazing over the bald spot at the back of his head. His teeth and tongue pressed into my throat and his hands streaked fire over my skin. He kneaded my breasts, pressing them together and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples hard enough to make my vision go dark. Shaking, I whined against his shoulder.

“Y-you’re so pretty.” Rick lifted his head, eyes lidded, long fingers squeezing and scratching and moving. “God, you’re fuck- fucking gorgeous.” Water trickled into my mouth as I leaned toward him, seeking the heat of his mouth.

He kissed me and it was like fire.

Rick slammed me against the wall, hands gripping my ass as his tongue found the backs of my teeth. I scrambled for purchase across his back, clinging to his shoulders and fighting to climb him. He hiked me up the wall with a growl and ground himself against my hips.

“Ahh…” My eyes fell to the trails of water gathering where our bodies were pressed together. The size of him sent a shock of fear shaking through my arms. _God_ , he was big.

Oh _God_.

One look from him had me melting against his chest, letting out a desperate noise as I struggled to wrap my legs around him despite the slick soap dripping down my skin. He growled into my forehead as his fingers dug into my ass and planted his feet against the opposite side of the shower. I clung to his powerful shoulders, kissing everything I could reach – his jaw, his slim neck, his gorgeous collarbones, my vision blurring as mascara dripped from my eyelashes onto my face. Rick shuddered and eased his palm forward, still holding onto me and sliding one finger between my lips. A sharp whine escaped me and I jumped, scrabbling to hang onto him.

“Shhh.” He pulled back to look down at my face, chest heaving and teeth gritted together.

“Ah – I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I – God _ohGodoh_ —”

As one slick finger pushed inside me I pressed my face into his neck and bit the crook of his shoulder hard, tongue working over his skin as I fought to swallow a moan. He traced his fingertip over the ridge of bone inside me and let out a growl of approval.

Tearing my mouth from his skin, I struggled for words. “Ahhh – I – I’m s-so sorry … _ahhn_ …”

“No. Don’t.” He pressed deeper into my slick walls, his breath hot against the top of my head. “Bite me all you want.”

“A-are you – _mmmn_ – are you sure?”

As opposed to answering, he slid his finger deeper, and with a gravelly sigh into my hair he pressed into a place that felt soft and thick and suddenly light was exploding behind my eyelids and my voice was punched out of my chest. "Rick!" I gripped him tighter, gasping hoarsely, and the dim light of the shower returned in swatches, the warm, sturdy plane of his chest still tight to my own.

He stilled for a moment, the hiss of the water filling up the space around us. "Say it again."

My insides squeezed him involuntarily and I tucked my head under his chin. "Rick..."

He shivered and a deep, rumbling sound bubbled up his throat as he pressed his finger into that spot that felt like agony, like being electrocuted. I bucked against his palm and my thighs tightened around his waist. It was all I could do to keep quiet as he began to fuck me with gentle, rhythmic movements of his hand, easing in a second finger and murmuring softly in that greedy, gravelly voice. "That's it, good girl. Breathe. Open up for me..."

Lightning ripped up my spine and down my legs. His skin tasted so good under my open mouth, he _smelled_ so good as the body wash rinsing off of me mingled with his sweat. I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to be good for him. I trailed my tongue along his throat and fought to relax my walls around him as his beautiful fingers pressed into the screaming nerve endings there. It felt too good; was too much. I needed more.

"Rick."

My voice was raspy, my mouth cottony despite the droplets of water hitting my tongue. With great effort I straightened my back, looking up at his face in hopes that he would understand. He drank in my expression through lust-blown pupils.

I shouldn't have doubted his brilliance.

With a mess of careful, moving hands he shoved me higher, the sharp angles of his hips digging into my backside as I squeezed my legs around the bottom of his rib cage. His fingers slipping out of me made me sob against the side of his face. "Shhh," he hissed again, the hand still on me giving my ass a reassuring squeeze. "I know."

As much as I tried to mentally prepare myself, the feeling of his erection pushing against me was terrifying. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned feebly as he hissed and guided himself between my lips and into the heavy, pounding ache. _He won’t fit. There’s no way he’s going to fit._

“Rick,” I murmured, voice shaking, nails digging into his flesh. It was too much, too wide; there was no way it was physically possible to

Pain.

Tearing pain screaming through my pelvis and up my spine into the back of my mouth.

The sensation of being stretched impossibly, of pressure so deep it felt like something had gone wrong.

A shrill sound ripped from my throat and was lost beneath the rushing water and the hum of the fan and Rick was shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh _fuuuck_.”

I felt my body clench around him and Rick was making a soft, high noise and curling in around me. “ _Fuckfuckfuck._ ”

The strength of his arms wrapped behind me and his hips shoving me against the wall brought me back. I sucked in a breath that felt like knives despite the steam billowing up around us.

He nudged his hips forward and I sank down further.

Something loud must have come out of my mouth because Rick wrenched an arm free and slapped it over my open lips. “Shhh – fuck! Oh _fuck_.”

My body writhed of its own accord, pain jumping through my stomach from the impossibly large intrusion, but somehow a gasp shook out of me, somehow being impaled so _deep_ and the feeling of my swollen opening and my throbbing clit grinding against his stomach was better, was so, _so_ good, was _incredible_ and I was moaning against his hand and squirming in his grip to get more of the horrible friction that felt like it was ripping me apart.

“ _Aaah!_ F-f-fuck, baby, take - take it ea _mngh_ oh God oh fuck oh _fuck_ -”

I groaned as he took his hand away to ball it into a fist and thump it against the shower wall beside my head. There was new strength in my arms and I wrapped them around his neck and dug my heels into his spine, my body grinding against him without my mind being anywhere near lucid enough to tell it to.

“D-don’t-” His grating voice broke off in a strangled moan. “Don’t wanna – wanna hurt you. Ssss- stop, slow down, I – I gotta-”

“Please,” I nearly cried, arching against the wall to dig him in deeper.

“Fucking – _Christ_ , baby-”

“ _Please, Rick_.”

And that did it.

With a tortured noise he shoved me back against the wall, his hips snapping forward, sending mind-numbing pain rippling through my middle. Shaky hands dug into my hips, his long fingers pressing into my skin hard enough to bruise, and he began to move in hard, full strokes that hurt so much that my toes curled from the pain and felt so good that the breathy noises escaping my mouth sounded like nothing I’d ever heard. He fit deeper than I’d ever plunged my guilty, searching fingers, so thick that I felt it in parts of me no website or anatomy class could’ve warned about. My fingers scratched desperately across his shoulders as I sealed my mouth to the graceful column of his throat.

“Ohhh fuck.” He readjusted his grip, pushing me up the wall and angling himself to stroke against the front of my insides. Thighs shaking, I moaned desperately into his throat. My fingers found their way into his hair as I arched to pull him closer, starved to feel as much of his wiry body against me as possible. “Y-you’re – _ahhh_ – God, you’re per-perfect…”

“ _Please,_ ” I breathed, begging for things I could barely grasp. He moaned into my wet hair and his cock made an obscene sound as his skin slapped wetly against mine. “Please, God, _please_ don’t stop.”

“Heh.” A lazy grin spread across his face as he leaned to gaze down at me. “Don’t … don’t gotta call me _that_.”

Beneath the assault on my senses I realized he was joking – that I should reply – but when I frowned and struggled to form words, to _think_ , the heat in his gaze and the hungry expression on his face as streams of water cut across his jagged features were so obscenely frightening and sexy that a shiver raced up my spine and a high, needy sound slid up my throat. _Please,_ I begged, squirming with all my strength to meet his sharp thrusts, not sure if I was forming words or just thinking it.

_Please don’t stop._

Rick leaned back to press his face against mine, brushing his nose against my forehead and letting out a hot breath against my temple. His palms slid to cup my ass more firmly, and he groaned softly in effort and began to lift me off of his dick, letting me slip down onto him as he spread me apart. I let out a squeak of surprise and immediately pressed my face into the plane of his shoulder in horror. “Keep – keep it down, baby. _Fuck_ you feel good…”

Threading my fingers into his gray hair and hanging on tightly, I breathed an eager sound out against his throat. The thick, heady pain of being relentlessly impaled was getting stronger, the electricity in my spine and the greedy clenching of my body around his cock building until my throat began to close off and my lungs felt like they were being crushed.

“I – I’m-” He dropped me again, slamming himself deep as I bit my lip hard to keep from wailing. “I’m gonna-”

“Are ya?” he breathed, leaning down to coax my eyes open and hold my hazy stare. There was amusement in his gaze, almost a reverence. The head of his cock jammed hard into the end of my canal and I let out a choked sob. His graceful fingers readjusted and his nose brushed mine, the water falling onto my face when it dripped from his eyelashes. “Good. Good girl. Come for me, then.”

His gentle command was all it took for my body to seize up in the most powerful, devastating orgasm I’d ever had. My spine went straight and my head lolled back as the breathless feeling of being wrapped in heat and crushed by darkness overwhelmed me. Rick was murmuring, something deep and guttural and controlled as I clamped down on him like my body was trying to pull him in and never let him leave me.

“Good, perfect. Juuust like that. F-fuck you’re beautiful – y-you feel like fucking velvet – _fuuuck_.”

I don’t know how long it was before the heat and the water and the sturdiness of his body pressed against mine returned, but when it did, I was kissing him, sloppy and clumsy and shaking. Rick growled and quickened his thrusts as I slumped numbly against him.

“Are … are you…” I fought to make my hands work, my fingers twitching uselessly on his flexing shoulders. I swallowed a mouthful of water and tried again. “Are you close-”

“Ngh. Yeah.”

“Wait.”

Grunting and slowing his hips, Rick moved back to look into my eyes. I pushed against his chest bonelessly and let my legs unwrap from around his waist. Chest heaving, he gently released my hips as the thick ache of his cock slid from my body, letting me slide down the shower wall. When I dropped to my knees and held onto his legs for support his eyes widened. Muscles screaming in protest, I straightened and pressed my mouth to the heavy, glistening head of his arousal.

“Ffff-” I drank in the shock on his face as I ran my tongue over his skin and stretched my mouth open to suck him in. There were hands fisting in my hair, shaking with the effort not to rip it out of my scalp. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Clinging to what little I knew, I loosened my jaw as much as I could and moaned indulgently as I stroked the tip of my tongue along the underside of his pulsing cock. The tortured sound he gave made my raw insides clench in delight.

“Y-y-yo-you don’t – have to – _oh fuck_.”

I peeked up at him through my eyelashes, stricken at how godlike he looked as the water cascaded over his slender frame and the light bled over his sharp features. I closed my fingers around the base of his cock with resolve, ignoring the painful stretch of my jaw and sinking down until he hit the back of my throat. The overwhelmed, panicked expression on his face as I steeled myself and swallowed hard around him wrung another pleading groan from me. He choked out a gasp, wrenched one hand from my hair to cover his mouth, and as he began to shake with the strain of keeping his hips still, I sucked in air through my nose and forced myself down until he pressed past the clenching muscles of my throat.

Rick’s face was screwed up with pleasure when I looked up at him, his knuckles straining white as he muffled a weak moan. His gaze trailed down to mine and I choked out a whine muffled almost entirely by his cock, begging him with my eyes.

He let out the sexiest sound I’d ever heard and a flood of heat hit the back of my throat.

Humming with relief, I swallowed hard, reflexively sucking on his pulsing arousal as thick fluid smeared the back of my tongue. Rick’s fingers slid through my hair until his palm rested against my skull.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed, and slumped to the floor, the strings of saliva connecting his dick to my mouth broken by the water spattering down from above us. I let my head thump back against the wall, swallowing lungfuls of air and letting the water wash the cum down my throat.

Panting, he ran a hand over his face. His eyes flickered from my own downward, lingering for a long moment where my thighs had fallen open to expose my pounding, raw sex. My knees brushed his legs and rested there, our bodies tangled in the cramped space, and we sat for a long while, the shower getting cooler as the warm water depleted.

“Did you wash your hair yet?”

Unaware that my eyes had drifted closed, I opened them and shook my head.

The warmth of his body drew blessedly close as Rick leaned toward me to grab something off one of the shelves. His fingers dug into my scalp and were followed by the soothing feeling of shampoo slicking through my hair. I sank against his chest, moaning softly as he lathered it through my hair.

 

* * *

 

I leaned bonelessly against him as Rick ran his long fingers over my skull and scrubbed soap down my back in soothing, impossibly graceful movements. He dragged me out of the shower despite his shaking legs, wrapped me in a blessedly fluffy towel, and grumbled his way through my bookbag to find clothes to coax me to into. I stared at him, head heavy and swimming, and he sighed. He stuffed my belongings into my bookbag and cracked the door open, taking a long moment to listen for any activity. When nobody appeared, he flung my bag over his shoulder and gestured for me to follow.

The couch cushions were a heavenly embrace when I sank into them, Rick’s impossibly tall frame covering mine. His palms settled on my sides, bunching up my shirt and brushing soothingly over my ribcage. He bit down on the tender spot behind my ear, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I ran my fingers through his damp hair and drank in the heady scent of his breath and his skin. His smell made my raw insides pound with want all over again.

Forehead resting on the pillow beside me, Rick chuckled. His thumb traced the delicate line of skin between my breasts.

“Are you and Summer even friends?”

Eyes falling shut, I snorted. “No.”

He hummed as if this didn’t surprise him. “Little bitch is probably jealous of – of how hot you are.”

The gentle, steady contact with my skin was making goosebumps break out all over my body, my nipples hardening against the scratchy fabric of my pajama shirt. I squirmed tiredly. “That’s mean.”

“Oh-ho-ho.” Rick trailed his fingers down to my groin, pressing a thumb against my aching crotch through my pants. “You have _no_ idea how mean I can be.”

“I want to,” I heard myself breathe, my spine prickling as my hips rocked into his touch. He turned his head to exhale against my cheek, his muscles flexing as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I don’t think so. Get some sleep.”

Despite the protest that welled in my chest as soon as he drew away, exhaustion closed in on me, my limbs sagging into the sheets, eyelids growing heavy. He straightened, towering over me at his full height. I blinked up at him, utterly adoring, and he watched me for a moment with a pleased, smug look on his face.

He turned and disappeared into the kitchen, lab coat flowing gracefully behind him.

Drowsily, I shifted onto my side and pulled my blankets up to my chin. I let out a long, satisfying sigh, listening to my heartbeat echo through my head. A clock ticked on the wall beside the TV.

 _Fifteen. Fifteen hours left_ was my last thought before sleep overtook me.

 

* * *

 

I awoke at around 7 AM, suddenly and profoundly awake.

I spent a good twenty minutes messing around on my phone before finally getting up to fold up my blankets. For a good few moments I listened for any sign of activity before quickly sniffing them for any hint of incriminating smells, my face burning with embarrassment the second I did. Straightening and smoothing the folded pile of sheets, I took my belongings back upstairs and got dressed in the bathroom. I was smoothing my hair away from my face when my eyes fell on the shower.

Pulling back the curtain, I sucked in a breath.

The vinyl walls and little shelves looked profoundly normal. The bottles of shampoo and conditioner huddled in the corners like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, the pale curtain falling away to reveal a crime scene without evidence. With the cool silence of the morning drifting into it, the shower looked almost too small to hold Rick’s tall frame and long mess of limbs. I felt the thick, blooming ache of the bruises on my backside where he held me and shuddered when a delicious curl of heat spread through my middle at the thought.

A flash of yellow caught my attention the moment I pulled the door open to slide quietly through it.

Morty blinked up at me, pulling away the hand he was rubbing his eye with. “Oh. H-hi. Good morning!”

“Morning,” I croaked back, forcing a smile, forcing it to be honest. My heart thumped once against my ribs and I willed the blood to creep back down from my face. “Sorry. I’m in the way.”

“Oh, oh, no. No! Are you kidding? No.” He blinked up at me, short hair disheveled. Completing the image of him in his shirt from the day before and a pair of wrinkled boxers, he was alarmingly cute. “Um … I do have to pee, though.”

“Oh, sorry.” I sidled out of the way, clinging the strap of my backpack hanging from my shoulder. He walked inside, opened his mouth to say something else, then closed the door. I shook my head to clear it and thudded back downstairs.

Beth came down and I was amazed all over again at how young she looked. She offered me a “Morning! I hope you slept well.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice leaping an octave as I turned to face her. She leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed and her eyes expectant yet soft. My stomach knotted up and heat rushed to my face as I scrolled mindlessly through my phone. “I did. Thank you.” Before she could say more, Mr. Smith came downstairs as well.

“Good morning.” Jerry shuffled into the living room to stand next to his wife, resting a hand on his hip. I stuck a hand into the air and gave an awkward little wave. They stared at me, Beth’s light smile unchanging, Jerry’s face unreadable. My heart punched through the bottom of my throat. They began chatting as they migrated toward the other side of the house. _Did they know?_

Images of Jerry walking past the bathroom door and hearing a thud, of Beth leaning against the hallway wall and sinking to the floor with a hand over her mouth, flashed through my mind. _No_. I swallowed the lump in my throat and dropped my shoulders from where they were creeping up to shelter me from any scrutiny. _Even if something was loud enough to hear over the fan and the shower, there’s a good chance everybody was asleep or shut in their rooms._

Blood roared through my ears as the sound of newspapers being opened and coffee being poured drifted from the kitchen. _There’s no way they know,_ I told myself slowly and carefully. _Stay calm._

Morty appeared next, still looking ruffled and tired, and Summer came not long after, her makeup and hair already done. “Morning,” she greeted briskly.

I smiled back, crossing my legs and propping my phone against my ankles as I tried to relax. “How are you?”

 “Eh.” She sprawled in one of the chairs, her legs hanging off of the armrest as she pulled her own phone out to jab furiously at it. “Pretty good, I guess; it’s whatever.” I blinked at her, a flood of feverish relief filling up my chest. She was paying the exact same amount of attention to me as she had all through school. _They don’t know._ She glanced over the top of her pink phone case. “You don’t have to stay the full twenty-four hours if you don’t want to. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Come on, Summer.” Morty was hovering in the doorway, glaring when she refused to acknowledge him. He turned his gaze to me. “At least stay for breakfast. You, you shouldn’t, y’know, go home without breakfast.”

The genuine expression on his face combined with Summer’s unimpressed scowl in response was all the motivation necessary to find myself seated at the Smith’s dining room table yet again, watching the condensation collect on my glass and thanking Jerry for spooning scrambled eggs onto my plate. I glanced at Summer’s phone under the table, which read 10:23 AM. _You’re almost done._

“So.” Jerry looked up from his plate. My blood ran cold. “I found a few job openings in the paper this morning for a marketing specialist.”

“Oh,” Summer sighed, grabbing a piece of toast. “They still make newspapers, huh?”

I scooped a forkful of eggs up and commanded my body not to reject it as Jerry fixed an unimpressed glare on his daughter. “Can we go for one meal without launching cannonballs of negativity across the table?”

“You – you don’t really _launch_ cannonballs,” Morty interjected.

“I’m just trying to point out that using archaic and inefficient means of job-seeking is virtually the same as throwing your resume into a public toilet.”

For the second time in twelve hours, Mr. Smith set his silverware down and leaned forward in his seat with a half-hysterical glare on his features. His stare moved to his wife. “Are you okay with our children trivializing my efforts like this?”

“The real question is why you’re okay with your efforts being so trivial, Jerry.”

The rasp of his voice made me jump. Rick plopped down in the chair across from me and sigh-burped, slouching lazily against the back of his seat. I looked at my plate as my stomach wrenched into knots.

Jerry glanced from his father-in-law to his wife. “Beth!”

“Eat your bacon, Jerry.” She countered his stare with a withering one of her own. Summer groaned and sank down in her seat. “Do you want anything, Dad?”

“Just some coffee. Thanks, Sweetie.”

“Morning, Rick.” Morty glanced at his grandpa, and I glanced at Morty. “What’s up?”

“Absolutely nothing of consequence, Morty.” Beth was suddenly standing between Summer and I, scooting a steaming mug across the table towards her father. When she padded back into the kitchen, he pulled a flask out of his coat pocket and poured amber liquid into it. The heat and crushing pressure that appeared made me aware of his brilliant gaze having settled on me. “H-hey. What’s-your-name. Did you get any sleep with these idiots crashing around everywhere?”

My throat was dry when I fought to swallow. “Yeah,” I croaked, swallowing again and having very little luck. “Yeah, I slept fine. Thank you.” Aware that Morty and Rick were both staring at me, I gave Rick a meaningful look before returning to my food with a polite smile. My chest squeezed tight when I tried to breathe and a dizzying rush of blood left my head to pulse between my legs. Rick’s graceful fingers drummed down the sides of his coffee mug, sending out a peal of quiet rings.

“So what are you gonna write in your paper?”

I glanced stiffly over at Summer. “Um, I’ll just, y’know, put fluff in it mostly. I’ll talk about how nice your house is and how I got to see how your routines work. And I’ll go over how I saw your family dynamic in action.” Pleasantly surprised at how coherent the words coming out of my mouth were, I smiled briefly and nodded.

“Okay.” She went back to scrolling through some social media app. “I’ll write about what a great guest you were.”

When I was still looking at her, an abrupt surge of relief filling my chest, she looked up from her phone once more and smiled at me. The honesty in her brown eyes had me hastily returning my attention to my lukewarm breakfast, blinking tears from my eyes and internally cursing the ache in my gut at being so close to the man across the table.

 _I did this,_ I thought, the excitement at being on the verge of going home shining through the nerves and embarrassment. _I survived._

“So, do you need a ride home?” Jerry’s tone was polite as he handed his plate to Beth, pulling his glass of water to press his palms to its surface.

“Oh!” I sat up straighter. “I was just going to text my mom to come pick me up. Thank you, though.”

“I can drop you off at wherever.”

Morty and Jerry blinked at Rick. Summer dropped her fork.

“What? Grandpa Rick, I can’t even _bribe_ you to give me a ride when I have to be at work.”

Sucking in a breath, I forced myself to look up at him. Rick crossed his arms and shrugged, leveling a bored stare over his granddaughter’s head. “I don’t know her well enough to hate her yet. You should’ve taken advantage of that window when you had the chance, Summer, but you were too busy being a toddler or some shit.”

“Th-thanks for coming over,” Morty piped up, barely audible over the crash of my heartbeat. “I’ll see you at school, I guess.”

 “Yeah.” Rick was already out of his seat and striding out of the room. I scrambled to my feet, meeting Morty’s gaze as I pushed my chair in. “Thank you for having me.” He was waving at me when I hurried out of the room to grab my backpack.

Beth and Jerry offered me hasty goodbyes as I hurried out of the front door that Rick had thrown open. My knees threatened to give out under me as I squeezed the straps of my backpack and followed the slender figure to where his ship was parked haphazardly in the driveway, a cobbled-together vehicle of glass and sheet metal that Morty had told me he built entirely by himself. The sun sent lancing pain through my head and I squinted, fidgeting in place as he climbed in the driver’s side and pushed a mountain of food wrappers and bottles off the passenger seat. I placed my feet strategically in the sea of glass bottles as I climbed inside, a mantra of _don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip_ looping in my head as I pulled my bookbag back into its position in my lap and tugged the door shut. I felt his piercing eyes on me and I swallowed thickly.

“Thank you,” I uttered, hugging my bag tightly to my chest. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I should – should be thanking _you_ ,” he rasped, fingers dancing over the control panel as the craft whirred to life, and when I looked at him, his half-lidded gaze was already on me. “Now I’ll know where you live.”

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY
> 
> Chapter 1 of ... 2, maybe? I dunno o3o


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